"Ethel, dear, what is the matter? Papa--"

"No--no--only I draggled my frock, and Richard threw cold water. And
I am good for nothing! Oh! if mamma was but here!"

"Darling Ethel, dear Ethel, I wish I could comfort you. Come a
little nearer to me, I can't reach you! Dear Ethel, what has gone
wrong?"

"Everything," said Ethel. "No--I'm too dirty to come on your white
bed; I forgot, you won't like it," added she, in an injured tone.

"You are wet, you are cold, you are tired," said Margaret. "Stay
here and dress, don't go up in the cold. There, sit by the fire pull
off your frock and stockings, and we will send for the others. Let
me see you look comfortable--there. Now tell me who threw cold
water."

"It was figurative cold water," said Ethel, smiling for a moment. "I
was only silly enough to tell Richard my plan, and it's horrid to
talk to a person who only thinks one high-flying and nonsensical--and
then came the dirt."

"But what was the scheme, Ethel?"

"Cocksmoor," said Ethel, proceeding to unfold it.

"I wish we could," said Margaret. "It would be an excellent thing.
But how did Richard vex you?"